


Tiny Love

by surprisepink



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Established Relationship, FE3H Kinkmeme, M/M, Male My Unit | Byleth, Married Life, Post-Canon, Prompt Fill, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:21:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24799897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surprisepink/pseuds/surprisepink
Summary: Archbishop Byleth only realizes he's been overworking himself when a simple cold forces him to take some time off. Fortunately, he has a loving husband to help him see it through.
Relationships: Yuris Leclair | Yuri Leclerc/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 4
Kudos: 107
Collections: FE3H Kink Meme





	Tiny Love

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a [prompt](https://3houseskinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/476.html?thread=1109980#cmt1109980) on the FE3H kink meme:
>
>> I need more yurileth content in general but I’d love to see a sickfic for these two. Honestly I’m good with any kind of sickfic for them, but two ideas that stick out in my mind are Byleth collapsing from overworking himself as the new archbishop/new ruler of fodlan mixed with a cold and Yuri freaking out initially over his husband’s collapse because of his own experience with illness via nearly dying of the plague. The other idea I had was Yuri coming down with a fever and fainting and Byleth completely panics because he knows about Yuri almost dying from illness but when Yuri wakes up it turns out it’s just a cold and he has to keep himself from laughing as Byleth frets over him like a mother hen for a week.

His life up to this point had prepared him for anything, or so Byleth thought. Surely years of working as a mercenary followed by his sudden unexpected teaching position followed by an entire _war_ would be enough experience to make just about anything that came after it child's play. Much to his chagrin, the mundane daily duties as archbishop had proven to be their own challenge.

It turned out that a lifetime of sleeping when he saw fit, eating anything and everything he could get his hands on, and spending hours on end fishing--oh, and the occasional break to whack some heads in or lecture his students about swordplay--hadn’t done a thing to make this new venture any easier. It was… well, not _boring_ , contrary to his initial concerns. Quite the opposite in fact. Everyone and their mother had something to say to him, or some advice to ask for, or wanted to know what Sothis' input might be to this and that. (He'd explained to his inner circle that he couldn't just _ask_ her that and expect a good answer, but that didn't mean they wouldn't keep approaching him about it just in case.)

The sum total of it was that Byleth was busier than he had ever been, and each day dragged on slow as molasses. There were no longer any appropriate opportunities to steal off to an obscure corner of the monastery to nap (he'd tried; Seteth knew the place like the back of his own hand and would no longer let Byleth get away with it). The best he could hope for when he wanted a break in the middle of his long days was spending a few minutes with the monastery cats, and wonderful as they could be (at least when he brought meat), even their sweet purrs didn't provide much relief to his heavy eyelids and the cramps in his back.

It had only been a year or so, and frankly Byleth was tired of it. But it was his sacred duty and it _mattered_ , so there was no escape.

He slid into his chair after one cat feeding session, a bit disappointed that a particular tabby hadn't accepted more than the smallest morsel for a snack. His head had been pounding since this morning, and even doing his best to avoid any strenuous tasks had provided little relief. Seteth had asked him a favor a few hours ago, hadn't he? It must have been something simple, but now the memory was impossible to pull from the haze in his mind. Some inquiry about the library, and a book about...

"Oh no, Professor!" a voice called, soft and sweet and distant--no, it must have been nearby, the acoustics of his office weren't so good that he'd hear someone from very far away. He hadn't even realized that he'd closed his eyes and was slowly drifting off until he opened them again. A small hand on his forehead provided surprising yet welcome relief.

Kindly green eyes met his own. Flayn was leaning in close, her other hand resting on her own forehead. What was she...

"Oh my goodness, you have a fever!" she announced after a moment. "That is my diagnosis as a healer, so you ought to take it as fact. Professor, how have you been feeling as of late?"

"Huh," Byleth muttered. "Not great. Maybe a little feverish, come to think of it."

"I suspect you have a cold. It's that time of year, so it wouldn't be particularly unusual. And you work so hard! Trust me, it happens to Father all the time, though he's even more stubborn about admitting it than you."

"Seems a little unfair that I can still get a cold after all of this goddess business."

"Nobody is immune to the common cold!" Flayn said with a sympathetic smile. "And even all of the magic in the world can't heal it. Trust me, I have tried. There's nothing left to do but prescribe you a strict treatment of bedrest. We'll get you home!"

"It's not far, I'll be fine," Byleth objected.

But she shook her head. “I shall take care of it posthaste.”

With Byleth's feverish daze only getting worse it was impossible for him to resist--or do much of anything besides lay his head on the desk--and soon enough Flayn had managed to recruit Catherine to aid her in getting him to the quarters that he shared with his husband. Compared to what he'd had as a teacher the space seemed unnecessarily large, the size in an odd way almost stifling. He had always felt more at home when he was forced to make the best of a rough sleeping place: a nice patch of grass or a small stuffy dorm room.

But he was getting used to it and, he thought as Catherine gave him a pat on the back as he crawled into bed, it was rather nice having a soft place to sleep. Yuri would be home soon enough, and anywhere he was felt like home.

Soon enough he'd drifted off into a dreamless sleep, though not without taking some of the medicine that Flayn left for him--to help your fever, she had said, and to make sure you get some rest. He'd had rougher days than this, that much was certain. Still, now that he was at home, alone with his thoughts, he was coming to realize how badly he needed a day off.

Byleth's nap must have lasted several hours: not long enough for him to be fully rested after countless nights of little sleep, but just enough to leave an uncomfortable dry taste in his mouth. Before he even opened his eyes, it was clear that someone had come home to aid him. There was a wet rag on his forehead that Flayn most certainly hadn't left, and the blankets around him were much neater than Catherine would have bothered with. That must mean...

"Yuri?" he called, his voice unexpectedly hoarse.

In an instant his husband appeared unannounced at the doorway. After they had started living together, Byleth had quickly grown accustomed to Yuri's near-silent footsteps, so it wasn't particularly shocking that he'd been so near.

"You're awake," Yuri said as he joined his husband. A chair had already been set there, a sign that this hadn’t been the first time today that Yuri sat beside him. Yuri’s expression was solemn, Byleth noticed; after two years together, he was coming to learn every subtlety of Yuri's face, could pick up on his unexpressed emotions even while tired and feverish. "I'm so glad."

Byleth gratefully took the glass of water he offered, and downed most of it in one gulp despite Yuri's chiding that he might choke. The cool sensation in his throat was more than welcome. "How did you know I was thirsty?" he asked, voice stronger now.

"Of _course_ you're thirsty, kitten. Flayn told me that you'd almost fainted, so I came home right away."

"You could have woken me up," Byleth said. Waiting for him to wake up must have been dull, and Flayn had probably been exaggerating. "I didn't actually faint."

"You needed rest. What else can I get for you?"

"I'll be fine. I just need to stay in bed for a while longer."

"Byleth--"

He fell back again, allowing his head to hit the pillow with a soft, satisfying thump. "Goodnight."

" _Byleth_ ," Yuri repeated, a tinge of annoyance now in his voice. His face peered down at him, leaning over the bed.

"You sound mad. You _look_ mad."

Byleth may have been the one who still felt a bit woozy, but now it was Yuri's soft features that were decorated with a frown. "I'm not mad, I'm just... hm."

But Yuri didn't keep secrets for long, at least not from his husband, and it never took much to encourage him to elaborate when the two of them were at risk of butting heads. Today, all it took was Byleth staring at him quizzically.

"I told you about my own brush with death as a child, of course."

He had, and given the casual manner Yuri tended to use when acknowledging that particular bit of his past, Byleth had assumed that it had left little lasting trauma--an assumption he was now second-guessing.

"It seemed mundane enough at the start: a cough, some fatigue. I told my mother I felt like I was going to be sicker than I had ever been, and she said it was unlikely to be anything serious. But within days I became so much worse, and only then did she know it was more grave than a simple cold combined with the dramatics of a child."

Yuri wrinkled his nose the way he tended to do when he was recalling something particularly unpleasant. "She tried to stay strong for me and reassure me that I would get better quickly, but in truth the matter was out of both of our hands. Only good fortune was able to save me. When I think of the worry she must have gone through for my sake... well, I'm sure I would have been the same way. Like I am now."

"I see," replied Byleth. "I won't die, though. I promise."

The smile on Yuri's face was somehow pained. "I know it's probably just a cold, but you can't promise that."

"I can, though."

Yuri shook his head. "You're ridiculous. Do you know that?"

"So I'm told. But I've come back from worse things than this, haven't I? You know, you were right there by my side."

"Mm, and saying things like that is why you're so ridiculous."

"You love it."

Yuri chuckled, and then Byleth felt the warm press of his husband's lips upon his forehead. It was a simple enough gesture, but it brought the same warmth in his chest that he had felt when he had first seen Yuri during the war, after his own long sleep. At that time, Byleth had barely known that feeling was love. He wasn't sure precisely when it had happened or what had led him to fall for Yuri, but the abundance of tiny ways he found to make Byleth feel appreciated was what made it clear that he'd never fall out of love.

"I love _you_ ," Yuri said, words that didn't leave his lips very often. Yuri was an honest man, or at least always had been with Byleth, but he preferred actions over words. It suited Byleth just fine, and the two had enjoyed years of expressing their affection in ways only the other could understand. But still, every time he expressed his love like this was also a treasure in its own way.

When he continued, Yuri's voice was gentle, almost teasing. Despite his objections, he must have appreciated Byleth's stubbornness in the end. "All right, you can sleep now if you really do promise to wake up."

At their engagement--and despite everything, despite the way Yuri had hesitated to use those words at the time it _was_ an engagement--they had promised each other honesty. Not in so many words, but by Yuri revealing his greatest secret almost without a second thought. In return, Byleth owed him the same.

If that meant he had to keep his promise to get better quickly, so be it. A cold was nothing compared to everything else that they had been through, together.

_omake_

"Professor, you're back on your feet already? Are you sure you're all right? Please do not strain yourself!"

"I'm fine, Flayn. Thanks for your concern."

"If you say so, but tell me immediately if you need assistance. I've doubled down on my faith studies since I joined your class those few years ago!"

"I have the power of love on my side, so it's not a problem. And the power of love made me chicken noodle soup."

"Huh?"

**Author's Note:**

> 08/02/20 - minor edits (grammar/typos, rewrote some sentences)


End file.
